


If you're gonna kill a witch, set her ass on fire

by minzimpression



Series: winterhawk one-shots [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013), Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Day 6, Fiction, M/M, Winterhawk Week, did anyone ever think of that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minzimpression/pseuds/minzimpression
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Bucky are suddenly in the Enchanted Forest. Thanks, Thor. You and your Asgardian magic ruin everything.</p>
<p>[Winterhawk Week Day 6 - Fiction]</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you're gonna kill a witch, set her ass on fire

**Author's Note:**

> I had [this](http://minzimpression.tumblr.com/post/127660590347/but-what-about-clint-and-bucky-being-transported) idea a few weeks ago. I figured it fits into the prompt.
> 
> I love Jefferson and Hansel and just couldn't resist :)

When Thor returns from Asgard, he brings a few new shiny things with him.

For scientific purposes of course.

Jane, and by extension Tony, had told him to bring some _harmless_ things back with him. And since Thor can’t say no to his betrothed and he likes Tony, (“Vision is such a good friend, Stark. You are very well respected on Asgard.”) he brought something with him.

Clint isn’t really excited about the combination of _Asgard_ and _magic_. Every time when he thinks about that particular combination, he feels cold and his vision is filled with blue. So, Clint isn’t present when Thor returns with the new toys. He’s on his floor, playing PlayStation, letting Nathan Drake crawl up some old ruins. He’s definitely not thinking about Thor’s return. 

“Hey, FRIDAY?” he asks after a while. He has crashed the PlayStation controller into a corner, because he couldn’t get Drake through that fucking Shambala alive. 

“Yes, Agent Barton?” FRIDAY asks. He has tried to tell her that he wasn’t an Agent anymore, but she won’t listen. In her opinion he is still an active Agent, despite being a full-time Avenger now.

“Did Thor say something about his brother? Is he still dead?”

“Yes, Mr. Odinson has told Jane so 75 minutes and 23 seconds ago.”

“Thanks.”

Good. That son of a bitch is still dead, then. 

Hopefully.

His stomach growls and he goes into his kitchen to make dinner.

He rummages in his fridge a bit, searching for the leftover curry. After he finds it, he contemplates if he should warm it or just eat it cold like that. Nah. Cold is good enough. Clint turns around and startles badly.

“Jesus _fuck_ , Barnes!” 

Bucky Barnes is sitting at his kitchen table, skimming through an empty book.

There aren’t many people that can sneak up on him (Natasha and Phil) and it isn’t the first time that Barnes suddenly pops up in his apartment, always looking like he’s been here the whole time. He has done that for a few weeks now. Clint has no idea how long he’s been in the tower but he’d been moping on Steve’s floor for months. And from one day to the next, he’d suddenly been everywhere in the tower, mingling and socializing like a normal person.

(None of them are normal. No one.)

Clint has the feeling that it has become his hobby to scare Clint. 

Clint always complains, but he lets Barnes join him in whatever he’s doing at that time. (Eating, PlayStation, shooting…) 

He sits down next to Barnes, opening the container with the curry.

“What are you reading?” he asks. “You do realize that there is nothing in there, right?” 

Barnes huffs.

“Yeah, I know. It was lying around in the common area. But look at the cover,” he shows it to Clint. The cover is thick and decorated with brocade cover.

_Once upon a time…_ Clint reads.

“I loved the old fairy tales when I was a kid. I often read them together with Steve…”

“Yeah?” Clint asks. He tries to imagine Barnes as a small kid but fails. He kind of wants to ask Tony if there’s somewhere a picture of a young Bucky Barnes in the huge digitalized picture archives of Pre-WWII pictures. “What’s your favorite tale?” 

“I think I’ve read _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_ and _Through the looking-glass_ a hundred times. The Mad Hatter is my favorite.”

Huh. That is somewhat…fitting. 

“Do you have a favorite?” Barnes asks.

Clint thinks for a moment.

“My…mom. When I was a kid, ah, she loved reading _Hansel & Gretel_ to me.”

“That’s a terrible story for a child, kind of…” Barnes snorts.

Clint has to laugh, too. “Yeah,” he says. “Don’t eat the fucking candy.”

He turns to the book again. “But there’s nothing written here. I don’t think that’s a good sign. This is fucking _magic_ , dude. I don’t like it, maybe you should—“ he reaches for the book. 

As soon as they are both touching the book, letters appear on the first page. It’s a beautiful old type face and Clint is mesmerized. 

But his fascination turns into horror when light emerges from the written words. _Blue light._

_Once upon a time,_ the letters shine. _there were two men living in the Enchanted Forest. Both were strickened with grief. One had recently lost his beloved sister, the other one had given away his daughter to fulfill an important task for the Queen. They both missed their loved ones deeply…._

Aww, this looks bad, Clint thinks as the blue light fills the whole room.

~+~

“Barton! Hey, Barton! Are you alright?”

What? 

He opens his eyes and sees the world upside down. What the fuck? He’s hanging in a fucking tree in a fucking forest. And all he can see are trees. So many trees. 

“Oh shit,” he says. He looks down (or up??) and sees Barnes standing there, looking up at him. And what the fuck is Barnes wearing? 

Clint looks up (down??) at himself and….wow. That looks an awful lot like leather. 

“You need some help?” Barnes asks and Clint can _hear_ the smirk. 

“No, I’m fine. I’m fine, thank you,” he mutters darkly and swings a bit, tries to get his foot out of this fucking tree. He wiggles and moves his foot. He feels it loosen. 

Wait, he’s really high up here, maybe he should –

“Motherfucker!” he cries out when his foot is free and he’s falling down. He lands very hard on his front and groans. Fucking hell. Everything hurts. Shit, god damnit. Fuck, this isn’t a dream. It sure as hell does feel like reality. 

Barnes is kneeling beside him, hands touching, looking for injuries. Oh, that feels nice. 

“Are you okay?” Barnes asks, concern evident in his voice. Aww, he cares about Clint.

“Hi,” he says and okay, that sounds dumb. He wants to get up but everything hurts. Ugh. “Help me.”

Barnes reaches under his arms and helps him up. 

Their faces are very near all of the sudden and all Clint can think of is,

“You’re very fond of eyeliner, aren’t you?”

“What?” Barnes asks and wipes his hands over his eyes. He’s startled when he sees that his fingertips come back black. Clint chuckles. But seriously. What in the hell are they both wearing? He looks at Barnes. Barnes has a freaking hat on. And a wine-red scarf around his neck. And a seriously ~~attractive~~ nice leather coat. 

He looks like every woman’s and man’s wet gothic dream. 

“Where are we?” Barnes asks, looking around.

“In a forest?” Clint asks, slowly standing up. “What’s the last thing you can remember?”

“Uh,” Barnes says. “We were sitting in your kitchen? Reading that book….from Thor.”

“The book. Yes, that fucking book,” Clint looks around too. “Jackpot,” he says when he spots the book, lying a few feet away. He goes to fetch it and opens it again. Barnes is behind him, standing very close and looks over his shoulder. 

The first words are still there but now a big, water-colored picture is there too. It’s obviously them. Both of them in this ridiculous clothes. Clint is hanging in the tree and Barnes is standing on the small road, looking up at him.

_The men met on a sunny afternoon. Hansel was recovering from a recent witch hunt in the trees and Jefferson was on his way to the Queen when their paths crossed…._

That is all. Nothing more. The other pages are blank. 

“Shit. I don’t like this…” Barnes mumbles. “You’re supposed to be Hansel, huh?”

“I’m not fucking _Hansel_. I’m Clint Barton, thank you very much. God, this is so creepy.”

He traces the outlines of the figure hanging in the trees. 

“This has to be a fucking dream,” he mutters.

“Did it hurt when you fell from the tree?” Barnes asks.

“It hurt like a bitch.”

“Not a dream, then. Or maybe it is. Maybe it’s _Inception_ ,” Barnes muses and Clint laughs. 

“You know _Inception_?” Barnes is full of surprises.

“Sure, love it. Steve doesn’t understand it, though.”

“Maybe I should kill you and then me. Maybe we will wake up, again,” Clint considers and Barnes shrugs.

“Probably not a good idea. This feels way too real. What if we’re a few levels down? Limbo is fucking scary. Can you imagine an Asgardian limbo?”

“Oh my fucking god, I’ll fucking kill Thor if we ever get back,” Clint fucking hates magic. Why did Barnes bring the book in the first place?

“Uh, I don’t know. I just wanted it. It looked so interesting,” Barnes says and Clint realizes he had said that out loud.

“Uh-huh,” he sighs. “Do you think we should play the game…whatever the game is?”

“Maybe…,” Barnes says. “How do fairy tales end? Maybe we should play some role and then it ends automatically. Assuming, you’re Hansel and I am…uh…Jefferson? Who’s Jefferson? I don’t know a fairy tale character named Jefferson.”

Clint snaps his fingers. “The hat!” he says. Barnes squints up, probably noticing the hat only know. Judging by his surprised face.

“Oh,” it seems to dawn on Barnes, too. “The book listened to us.”

“Seems so,” Clint groans. “Feeling crazy yet?” Hansel and the Mad Hatter, what the actual fuck? They never have been in a story together….right??

“Not more than usual,” Barnes smirks and Clint laughs. But he stops laughing when he remembers something.

“Hey! I know how we can get out of here!” he grins. 

Barnes raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?” he asks.

“How do all stories end?” he asks, leaning closer. 

“With a happy end?” Barnes answers, unsure. “What are you doing?” he adds, leaning back when Clint comes nearer.

“And what are the characters always doing?”

“What do you mean, what…oh…oh no, no, no. Don’t you dare, Barton. Hpmf—“

It’s just a quick peck on the lips. It feels like electricity jolts through his body and Clint stumbles away almost immediately. His lips prickle, his pulse has quickened. What the fuck?

Barnes is staring at him, touching his lips. Then he looks around, realizes that they are still in the forest, and sighs defeated.

“Good thinking,” he admits and Clint’s ears get a bit warm under his stare. “But I think it has to be true love’s kiss. So…”

Clint clears his throat. “Of course...” he mumbles, feeling uneasy. 

They get interrupted by a ghastly laughter that hurts Clint’s ears and suddenly there is a woman – a very ugly woman – on a _broomstick._ She’s flying on a broomstick. She looks like a fucking witch.

Really…?

“You thought you could get rid of me that easy, Hansel?” she sneers and yep, that’s a fire ball forming in her outstretched hand.

“I fucking hate magic,” Clint whines and jumps out of the way. He can hear Barnes’s hysterical laughter. 

“That’s the first time I’m missing my metal arm,” Barnes shouts and Clint laughs too. At least he can find (or even make) another bow here. 

They are going to survive this shit.

And then he’s going to kick Thor in his divine balls.

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be my next multi-chaptered story. You can see it as the prologue? So, if you liked it, stay tuned, I guess.
> 
>  
> 
> my [tumblr](http://minzimpression.tumblr.com)


End file.
